That night Baba told them that they had to go to school the next day, but that Hadia and Huda could not wear their hijabs. “We don’t know how people will react,” he said. “We don’t know where they will direct their anger if they are afraid.” Huda started to cry. Huda never cried. Hadia put her hand on Huda’s shoulder. “I refuse,” Hadia said. “What have we done?” “Please,” Baba asked her. “Please. Listen to me.” He had never said please before. His voice, the expression on his face—he was unrecognizable. None of them spoke. Hadia and Huda went into a bedroom, closed the door. I hate them, Amar
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